


I'm sorry

by Stories_can_make_us_fly



Category: Cuffs (TV)
Genre: Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 15:26:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10665489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stories_can_make_us_fly/pseuds/Stories_can_make_us_fly
Summary: A former client seeks Simon out and things take a turn for the worse.Will Jake realise that Simon needs his help in time?This is my take on what might have happened after the show ended.Because really: How dare the BBC leave us without a second series?!





	I'm sorry

**Author's Note:**

> I really don't know where this came from. One day, I looked for Cuffs-Fanfictions, next thing I know I found myself writing this little story.  
> I know that the chance of anyone reading this is very slim, but hopefully some will and enjoy it as much as I did writing it. :)
> 
> It's been a while since I saw Cuffs, so I'm not so sure on some of the finer details, so bear with me if anything is amiss. Also, English isn't my first language, so I apologise for any mistakes. 
> 
> Now, enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

**I'm sorry**

Still thinking about his last case (a 45-year-old man who supposedly had stolen his ex-wife's car and had tried to run her over with it, the 80-year-old neighbour as the only eye witness), Simon wasn't paying attention to his surroundings, his feet moving on their own volition to the spot where he had parked his car in the underground car park of the police station. Searching for his keys, he didn't see the bulky man leaning against the concrete column. It wasn't until the man approached him, his feet dragging over the floor, that Simon looked up. Taking in the shaved head and muscular arms with tattoos all over them, he asked: “Can I help you?”

The man frowned. “You're Simon Reddington.” It wasn't a question, but Simon answered anyway: “I am.” And after a minute of silence in which the guy just stared at him, he added: “I'm sorry, did you want something? Only, I am rather busy and…”

This seemed to anger the stranger, his brown eyes turning dark. Simon took a step back, bumping into his car. There was something about the guy that didn't sit right with him. He seemed … dangerous. Like an animal that was about to attack.

“You don't remember me.” Again, not a question.

Simon gulped. His instincts told him to get in the car and drive away as fast as he could, but he still hadn't found his keys. For a moment he considered making a run for the next exit, but bulky guy could obviously read his mind, because he took a step forward, successfully blocking every way of escape. Okay, calm down, he told himself. He was a lawyer, for God's sake. He could talk his way out of anything.

“I'm sorry, no. Have we met? I ...”

The fist came out of nowhere, colliding with his face with a sickening thud. So much for talking his way out. He would have gone down, if the guy hadn't gripped his front. One fist already raised again, he smashed Simon against his car.

“You fucking bastard! I spent two years in prison because of you and you don' even remember me!”

Simon wanted to point out that he had had hundreds of clients in the last couple of years and that he couldn't possibly remember all of them, but somehow he had a feeling that wouldn't make much of a difference.

“I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to offend you, I …”

“Shut up!”

Not knowing what else to do, Simon waited and prayed that someone - preferably a police officer with a gun or a Taser - would walk in and save him.

“My name 's Nate Bricks. You promised you would get me out on probation, but instead they put me away. For two years!”

Simon blinked, searching for the name in his memory. And what he came up with wasn't comforting. Nate Bricks had been in a bar fight two years back, beating a guy half to death. Simon had been his duty solicitor, it was one of his first cases and he had tried to convince the judge that Bricks had been drunk, hadn't had any prior convictions (which, admittedly, was only because there wasn't ever enough evidence) and was one of many people involved in that particular fight and no one could say for sure it was Bricks who had beaten the guy. What Simon hadn't taken into account was that the judge's son was sitting in a wheelchair because of a bar fight, so she had zero tolerance for thugs who beat people. So instead of three month in prison and two years on probation, she had sentenced Bricks to two years and one year probation. Simon remembered the sentencing and Bricks becoming furious and shouting threats, not only at him, but the whole court room: the judge, the witnesses, the police officers. He had felt a bit uneasy at the time, having never been the recipient of such violent rage, but over time he had gotten used to clients who took their anger out on him when they didn't get the sentence they had expected. But never before had someone sought him out after they were released. Which left Simon with a bad feeling in his stomach. Taking to the only thing he could do in this situation, he tried to talk to Bricks again.

“I'm really sorry, Mr Bricks. I tried everything I could. If you calm down, I can …”

“Oh, now you remember me, huh?” Bricks snarled, his face contorting into an ugly grimace.

“You wanna know something else? My wife left me. I was only gone for a month and suddenly I get divorce papers. She took my kids and jus' left. And I have no idea where they are.”

“I'm sorry to hear that,” mumbled Simon. He wasn't one to easily panic, but Bricks looked angrier by the second and he really, really didn't want to find out how that guy in the bar fight had felt when Bricks had punched him into a pulp.

“Oh, you will be sorry, if you don' help me find her.”

Confused, Simon stared at him. “I don't know how I can do that. I have no access to any database which …” He stopped abruptly when Bricks pulled a gun out behind his back and pressed the barrel to Simon's head. And just like that the situation got from bad to worse and Simon felt his panic level rise to a hundred.

“Mr Bricks, please. We can talk about everything. I promise I will help you find your wife. Just put the gun away,” Simon said with a voice two octaves higher than normal.

The gun clicked. “And why should I believe a word out of your filthy lying mouth?”

Simon opened and closed said mouth. He didn't know what to do. His brain was going into shock, commanding him to scream for help, but his voice was stuck in his throat. Never in his life had he felt so scared!

“Here is what we will do: You and I are going upstairs and you will talk to one of them coppers, getting my wife's address and then you will drive me there. And if you say so much as a word to anyone, I will blow your fucking brains out. Understood?”

Simon nodded, unable to speak a word.

 

 

Jake sorted through a stack of papers on the desk. Ryan who was sitting opposite him at the computer, writing a report on their latest arrest, said without looking up: “You about done, messing with the paper work? Only, I just organised that this morning.”

Jake ignored him. After a few more minutes of shuffling through two more files, he said: “You know, I never knew being a police officer included so much paper work. They don't teach you about that.”

“Well, get used to it. Won't be getting better.”

“Yeah, figured as much,” mumbled Jake. After nearly a year on the Brighton police force he had settled in pretty well, knowing what he was doing out on the streets and getting along with his colleagues. But the amount of paper work never ceased to amaze him.

“Donna and Lino coming in for lunch?” he asked Ryan.

“Don't know. They had a call on the other side of town. Probably eating at Lino's parents.”

Having eaten at the restaurant of the slightly pudgy PC's parents himself, Jake was envious of the delicious Italian food while he would in all likelihood be eating a sandwich in the police canteen. Not something to look forward to. Nevertheless, it was nearly lunchtime and he was hungry. Before he could suggest to Ryan to grab an early lunch, he saw Simon coming down the corridor, followed by some bulky guy (probably a client). Jake suppressed a sigh. He had no desire to talk to the handsome solicitor who had broken his heart a few months back. But he would be damned if he gave Simon the impression that he was hiding from him. So he stayed where he was and scribbled away at his note pad.

It fell to Ryan who had shot a quick look at Jake when Simon had entered the room to deal with the solicitor.

“Looking for something?” Ryan asked, his voice neutral, but his face hard and cold.

“Yeah,” Simon answered, clearing his throat, “I need the address of … of a woman. Jessie Bricks.”

Hearing Simon stumbling over his words, Jake looked up with a frown. In all the time since he had met Simon, he had never seen him anything else than confident and in control. His voice always had that undertone of superiority and cockiness. But now he sounded … scared. As soon as the thought entered Jake's mind, he dismissed it. What on earth would Simon be scared of?

“Why?” asked Ryan.

“She … she's a witness. Need her statement for … a trial.”

Ryan snorted. “Probably to help some douche bag who deserves to be in prison, huh?” Ever since Jake and Simon had broken up, Jake's colleagues – friends really – had treated Simon with disdain. Well, more than they already did. No one had particular liked Simon in the first place. But after their break-up it had gotten worse. And really, he deserved every spiteful comment and hateful look. Not that Simon had cared about that, as far as Jake could tell. More often than once Jake had wanted to punch Simon for his seemingly indifference to everything that had happened. Nowadays, he just ignored Simon. Although he was still hurt, he was okay with seeing him at work. The worst part was over, he could move on. But something was off. Jake couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something in Simon's eyes that felt wrong.

Meanwhile Ryan who was typing at the computer, looking for the address, asked: “What happened to your face? Got a little rough with your latest hook up?”

Up until now Jake hadn't notice that the left side of Simon's face was slightly bruised.

Simon didn't seem to hear what Ryan had said, instead throwing a nervous glance over his shoulder at the bulky guy in the doorway.

“There is no one called Jessie Bricks,” Ryan informed him after a few more minutes of clicking through the database.

“What? There has to be!” Simon took a step forward and for a second Jake thought he would grab Ryan by the shoulders. “Look again!”

“Contrary to what you might like to believe, we have other things to do than to find people for you,” Ryan stated calmly and crossed his arms over his chest.

Simon opened his mouth to say something, when the bulky guy came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Hate to interrupt, Mr Reddington, but I'm kinda in a hurry.”

Now Jake definitely saw fear in Simon's eyes. Ryan saw it, too, and they exchanged a curious look. What the hell was going on here?

“Yes, of course. Sorry.” Simon turned back to Ryan. The fear was gone, replaced by the mask of a lawyer who could stand his ground in any court room, defending his client regardless of his crimes.

“She is divorced. Maybe she took her maiden name.”

At that a flash of anger crossed the bulky guy's face. It was gone so fast that Jake wasn't sure he even saw it and Ryan had turned back to the computer.

“Jessie Baker. Bedford Street Number Six.”

“Thank you.” And just like that Simon was gone again, not sparing another look at anyone.

Jake and Ryan both stared after him.

“That was weird,” commented Ryan after a few minutes.

Jake got up, looking down the corridor to the lift. Something was not right.

“You think we should go after him?”

Ryan thought about that for a moment. “No. He can take care of himself.”

Jake looked at him. “You don't think that guy looked threatening?”

“Definitely. But Reddington is a duty solicitor. He has all sorts of clients.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you're probably right,” mumbled Jake, still staring down the corridor.

“Come on.” Ryan clapped him on the shoulder. “Lunch time. I'm starving.”

 

 

Simon was scared out of his wits. As soon as they entered the lift and the door closed behind them, he had to lean against the wall, otherwise his legs would have given out under him. Closing his eyes he pretended that all this was just a horrible nightmare from which he would wake up every minute.

There was a 'ding' when they reached the basement floor, proving that this wasn't a dream and instead very much real.

“Get a move on,” grumbled Bricks.

Simon opened his eyes. “Please, can't you just leave me here? You know where your wife is. You don't need me anymore.”

Bricks laughed. “You think me stupid? The minute I'm gone, you're goin' up to your cop mates, tellin' them everythin'.” He grabbed Simon's arm. “Come on.”

Simon stumbled after him. He felt tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

“Please. I promise, I will tell no one.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn't said anything. Bricks whirled around, the gun back in his hands, and struck Simon across the face so hard he fell down to the concrete floor.

“One more word an' I will shoot you dead. Now get up!”

Simon whimpered, but got up nevertheless. He could feel blood trailing down the side of his face. His left hand was throbbing, probably sprained or broken from the fall.

He didn't dare say anything. Getting the keys out of his pocket, he got in his car and started the engine while Bricks got on the passenger seat. Silently, he drove up to the gate keeper, waiting for the barrier to be opened. The gate keeper was in his seventies and always took his time to open the barrier, often times stopping for a chat with whomever wanted in or out. Normally, Simon didn't care for this. He had other things to do with his time. But today he wished the old man would talk for hours.

“Ah, Mr Redington. Leaving already?” asked Bert, the gate keeper. Knowing that Simon only ever exchanged a few words, he already had his hand stretched out to open the barrier.

Desperate to keep Bert talking, Simon said: “Yeah, I promised to be home early. What about you? You have to work all day? It's such a nice day.”

Bert, surprised, but delighted that Simon suddenly became so chatty, answered happily: “Oh, I'm quite all right with working today. You know me, Mr Reddington, always enjoying a little chat. And I'm getting enough sun here. And what about you? Do you have plans?”

Simon glanced at Bricks. He was tapping his fingers impatiently against his thigh.

Thinking fast and praying to whatever entity there was that this would work, he said: “I'm taking my wife out to dinner. It's our anniversary.”

As expected, Bert stared at him. Everyone knew he was gay.

The barrier opened and Simon stepped on the gas pedal.

“Have a nice day, Bert.”

“You too, Mr Reddington,” mumbled Bert, staring after him.

Please, please, tell someone about this! That was the mantra Simon repeated to himself. There had to be someone who would find this strange and look further into this.

All of a sudden Bricks said: “Didn' know you were married.”

“What?” Simon panicked. What if Bricks noticed he wasn't wearing a wedding ring? Or if he somehow knew that he was gay? Trying to stay calm, he said: “Yes, I am. One year today. She is great. Love of my life.” What the hell was he talking about? In his whole life he had never been with a woman, let alone loved one (his parents would have been very happy, if he had). The only person he had come close to loving was Jake and that, he had fucked up royally. OK, not going down that road now! Bricks interrupted his rambling thoughts.

“Call her!”

“What?” Simon's panic level rose again. What the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't call a wife that didn't exist.

“Call her! Tell her you have to work late and won't be home until midnight.”

Not knowing what else to do, Simon fumbled the phone out of his pocket. For a moment he thought about calling the police, Jake, anyone. But in the end he called his home phone number. He couldn't think straight. No way he could subtly alert someone to his situation without giving away that he wasn't talking to his imaginary wife. And he was sure Bricks would shoot him without a second thought if he noticed something.

It ringed a few times before he heard the voice of the answering machine.

“Hey, honey, it's me. I'm … I'm sorry, something came up at work. It's going to be late, so don't wait up. I'm really sorry! I … I will make it up to you. Love you. Bye!”

Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Bricks. He didn't seem suspicious.

Nevertheless, Simon said: “She wasn't home. Probably out shopping.“ Wow, he would believe in this wife of his himself, if he kept going like that.

Without thinking Simon wanted to slip his phone back into his pocket when Bricks caught his wrist. Simon couldn't help but wince as a sharp pain shot through his arm. He had definitely hurt his hand earlier.

“You think me stupid? As soon as I'm not lookin' you will call or text someone. Not havin' that.” And with that he smashed the phone and threw it out of the window.

 

 

With a sigh Jake looked at the sandwich on his plate. He was hungry, but really, the stuff they served here was plain disgusting. He took a sip of his drink before taking a bite.

“Why do you keep eating it when you clearly don't like it?” Ryan asked, cutting his steak.

“Because everything else is just as disgusting.”

“You're spoiled, you know that?”

Jake ignored him. Instead he took another bite of his sandwich and washed it down with water.

His thoughts went back to their earlier encounter with Simon. He didn't want to, but he couldn't help being worried. He still had feelings for him and the scared look in Simon's eyes wouldn't leave him alone.

“You think Simon is okay?” he voiced his thoughts to Ryan.

“Still thinking about that? Reddington can take care of himself and if he can't he would have said something. I told you: Don't sleep with the enemy. It only causes problems. And look where it got you. ”

“I don't sleep with him anymore,” Jake shot back, getting tired of hearing this. Yes, Simon had broken his heart, but Jake didn't regret being with him. Simon had helped him through some pretty deep shit, just by being there for him. Like his first disastrous weeks on the force, his mother's illness, his father's infidelity. True, in the end Simon had cheated on him and chosen his job over their relationship, but all of that had nothing to do with Simon being a lawyer. He wasn't the enemy, he just stood in another corner in fighting for the people. Of course, often times lawyers and solicitors were a pain in the ass for the police, but they were there to protect the people and their rights. Which didn't make them so different from the police. But Jake had a feeling that he was one of the few who saw it that way. And Simon's attitude (and that of other lawyers) towards the officers certainly didn't help.

“Mind if I sit here?” asked a new voice.

Jake looked up from his plate, thankful for any distraction. Bert stood next to the table, waiting for an answer.

“Of course, sit down,” answered Ryan, pulling out a chair. “Your wife doing better?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking.” Bert sat down and opened his lunch box, filled with a delicious looking meat pie and some fruit. “She is already back in the garden, tending to her roses.”

“Good. I'm glad to hear that.”  
“Speaking of wives,” Bert said while tucking into his pie with gusto, “oddest thing just happened. I was talking to Mr Reddington which in itself I found surprising.”

Jake perked up at the mention of Simon.

“I mean, he's always nice and polite, but he never asked or told me anything. And suddenly he's asking me about my plans for the day and all. Strange, isn't it?”

Jake didn't know what to say to that while Ryan said: “Yeah. But who knows? Maybe someone finally told him what a douche bag he is and that no one likes him. So he tries to be nice to people, for once.”

“Well, I don't know about that,” contemplated Bert, not one to talk bad about people. Jake just shook his head. Although he was a bit worried about Simon, he certainly wouldn't defend him. Not after everything he had done.

“But that's not even the strangest thing he said,” continued Bert, chewing on a bite. “He told me he was getting home early, because he wanted to take his wife out to dinner for their anniversary. Never saw him with a woman, let alone a wife.” He shook his head. “Strange indeed.”

Both Ryan and Jake stared at him.

“His wife?” repeated Jake incredulously.

“That's what he said.”

Jake turned to Ryan. “You still think everything is fine with him?”

“No. No, something is up,” Ryan admitted. “Come on, we'll talk to Jo.”

 

 

They were parking in front of the apartment building for fifteen minutes now. Bricks was just staring at the run-down building without saying a word and Simon wouldn't dream of saying something. He had been beaten enough today. Not to mention the gun. Simon could still feel the cold metal of it pressed against his temple. Something he would not forget for some time. Suppressing a sigh he looked at the neighbourhood. Randomly placed blocks of houses, government-funded for the socially disadvantaged, litter on the greenery and the playground. Simon shuddered. He was glad he had a well-paid job so he could afford his – admittedly – a little extravagant lifestyle. Right now, though, he would have given a lot to be living in one of those houses if it meant he wouldn't have to sit next to a psycho with a gun who threatened to kill him.

Suddenly Bricks opened his door, startling Simon with his sudden movement.

“Get out,” he snarled.

Simon did as he was told. With Bricks behind him he walked up to the building with the number six on it. The doorbell panel was scratched and dirty, the names barely readable. It took some time to find the name 'Baker'. After a few seconds the voice of a woman sounded through the intercom, accompanied by static noise and kids talking in the background.

“Yes? Who is it?”

Simon shot a nervous glance at Bricks.

“Ms Baker? My … my name is Simon Reddington. I'm a solicitor. Could I talk to you for a minute?” He felt really bad for dragging the poor woman and her kids into this. But what other choice did he have? He didn't want to die!

“A solicitor? What for?” She sounded suspicious.

Simon rubbed his face with his hand. Of course, the woman didn't trust lawyers. He should have expected that.

“It's nothing serious. I just want to talk to you. Would you let me in? Please?” he said with the most charming voice he could muster which didn't say much at the moment.

There was silence for a few seconds, then “Okay.”

A buzzing sound and he could open the door.

Jessie Baker awaited them in their doorway with her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn't much older than Simon, probably in her early thirties, and must have been really beautiful once, but after three kids, too much work and trying to make a living with almost nothing, she looked worn out and tired. Her blond coloured hair was made up in a messy bun, her pink T-Shirt faded and her jeans had a grease spot on her right thigh. She looked at him with disdain and impatience, clearly not in the mood to deal with any kind of law enforcement – police, lawyers, social workers – who were going to tell her how to take care of her kids. However, as soon as she saw Bricks her whole posture changed. Her face became fearful and she took a step back, ready to slam the door behind her.

“Nate,” she whispered, “what are you doing here?”

“Hello, sweetheart. Long time no see,” said Bricks and stepped forward to put his hand on the door.

“I'm sorry,” was all Simon could say before Bricks pushed him inside the flat. The door fell shut behind them.

“Nate, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you.” Jessie Baker was clearly scared of her ex-husband. Something Simon could relate to.

“Shut up, Jessie,” hissed Bricks and shoved her against the wall. He looked her up and down. “You look like shit. Now, come on.” He yanked her forward into the living room and dragged Simon along in the process.

“Sit down.”

Simon did as he was told, as did Jessie.

Bricks pointed his gun at them. “Don't you dare move,” he said, then vanished into the back of the flat where shouting and laughing was coming from.

As soon as he was gone, Simon said: “I am sorry. I didn't mean to bring him here. He threatened to kill me and I didn't know what to do. I am so, so sorry!”

Jessie didn't seem to hear him. Her face was pale, her eyes wide open.

Simon gave up trying to talk to her. She was clearly in shock.

In that moment Bricks came back, three confused kids in tow. The oldest boy was about eight, the others – two girls – around three and five.

“Mum?” the boy asked. “What's going on?”

That seemed to wake Jessie. She stood up and gathered her kids in her arms.

“Please, Nate. What do you want?” she asked while pushing her kids behind her, protecting them with her body.

“I want my family. These are my kids and I wan' to be with them. And with you, Jessie!”

Bricks got down on his knees to talk to his children. “Right? You wanna be with your Daddy, too, right?” The kids just stared at him. Simon doubted that they even remembered him, maybe the boy had a hazy memory of his father, but judging from the look on his face they weren't happy memories. When Bricks saw the fearful and confused faces of his kids, his own face fell. And got angry in the next second. He got up again and turned to Simon.

“See what you did?” he roared. “My own kids don' know me. An' my wife doesn' want me. It's all your fault, you fucking bastard! You promised I wouldn' go to jail.” He grabbed Simon at his jacket and dragged him to his feet.

“I'm sorry. Really, there was nothing I could have done. Please,” Simon stammered. He couldn't think. The only thought in his head was: He is going to kill you! He is going to kill you!

“Please don't hurt me!” he begged. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, high-pitched and terrified. How on earth had he landed himself in this mess? When he had woken up this morning, he had thought the most exciting thing he would do today was getting to court. And now he stood in a cheap little flat on the other side of town with a gun pointed at his head. He didn't want to die! There was so much he still wanted to do. Travel more, take more time for himself, maybe get a dog, tell Jake he was sorry for the way things had ended between them …

He felt tears streaming down his face. “Please!”

Bricks' face turned into an ugly grimace. “You fucking bastard! It's all your fault,” he yelled and slammed his fist into Simon's face. Simon flew back and crashed into the glass table which shattered under his weight. Jessie screamed. Feeling the glass slicing through his skin, Simon rolled onto his back. He didn't dare to get up and just stared at Bricks, terrified. Blood was streaming down his face, his whole body ached. With certain clarity he knew: This was it! He would die, right here, right now!

Bricks aimed his gun at him. His whole body was shaking with rage.

“'S all your fault.”

In that moment Jessie Baker stepped forward.

“Please, Nate! You don't have to kill him! You will only get in more trouble. He's not some nobody, he's a lawyer. Probably from a rich family. They won't stop until they arrest you. Please! Don't do this!”

Bricks spun around. “I wouldn' have gone to prison if it weren' for him. We would still be together, be a family, babe.”

“And … and we can be that again,” Jessie said with a tremble in her voice. Simon knew she was only placating Bricks. But as long as it prevented Bricks from shooting him …

And sure enough, Bricks lowered his gun. Simon wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but all of a sudden there was a loud crash from the front of the house, startling Bricks.

A deafening bang. Simon screamed as a piercing pain shot up his leg.

 

 

DS Jo Moffat frowned while she listened to Ryan. Jake stood impatiently to the side. The more time went by, the more agitated he got. He just couldn't get that scared look in Simon's eyes out of his head. Why hadn't he gone after him? Asked him if everything was all right? If he could help him? But no, instead Jake had let him go. Was Simon in trouble? Did he need help?

“Okay, it all sounds a little odd,” Jo said after Ryan had ended. “But not enough for me to start an investigation. Everyone acts strange once in a while. With perfectly good reasons no one knows about.”

Jake opened his mouth to protest. How could she say that? Before he could get a word out, Jo silenced him with a look.

“However, why don't you drive by the woman's address? See if something's up. Just in case.”

Ryan nodded. “Will do that. Come on, Jake.”

“Call me when you know something,” Jo called after them.

“I should have talked to him,” mumbled Jake with a sigh while they went down the stairs to the car park.

“Don't beat yourself up. I'm sure he's fine. Besides,” Ryan held the door open for him, “it's not your job to look after him.”

“That doesn't mean I don't worry about him,” hissed Jake. “I know you don't like him. But he could be in serious trouble.”

“Who's in trouble?” interrupted Donna's voice their discussion. She and Lino were just getting out of the car, Lino still chewing on what looked like a pastrami sandwich.

“Simon,” replied Jake curtly. He really didn't want to waste any time explaining what was going on. The sooner they got to Jessie Baker's house the sooner he would know that Simon was fine and didn't need any kind of help. And Jake could forget about all of this and enjoy the rest of his day. See a movie, maybe go to a club.

“Oh? What's up with our favourite solicitor friend?” Lino asked as he came up beside Donna.

Ryan was about to answer him, when Jake interrupted: “We'll tell you when we know it.”

He didn't wait for a response and got in the car, shooting Ryan an impatient look.

His tutor officer shook his head, but got in the car and drove out of the park, leaving a stunned Donna and Lino behind.

 

 

Simon cried out in pain and clutched his right thigh. He could feel hot and thick blood seeping through his fingers. Jessie was screaming in the background, Bricks was shouting at her. But he didn't care. It hurt. It hurt so much! Sobbing, Simon rolled onto his side. He wanted it to stop! For someone to take the pain away.

Suddenly, Jessie was beside him and took his head into her hands, forcing him to look at her.

“It's gonna be okay. I'm a nurse. I will take care of you, okay?” She said in a calming voice. “Simon, right? You're going to be fine. I promise. It's just a flesh wound. Now, take a deep breath. In and out. Can you do that for me?”

Simon nodded and did as he was told. In and out. In and out. He concentrated on Jessie's eyes. Blue. Rimmed by long black eye lashes.

“Good. Very good!” Jessie nodded. She let go of his head. Wrenching his hands away from his leg, she pressed a towel on the wound to stem the blood flow. Simon gasped. Crying, he lost his focus on Jessie and fell on his back.

“Oh God! Please!” he sobbed, “Please, make it stop!”

“I'm sorry. I'm really sorry! I have to do this,” Jessie apologised, not lifting the pressure.

“Davy, get Mummy the First-Aid-Kit!” she shouted over her shoulder at her oldest. The kids were huddled into a corner, frozen in terror. At his mother's command the boy, Davy, got up, shot his father who was sitting on the sofa, mumbling to himself, a quick look and ran out of the room. He came back a few minutes later with a red bag clutched in his tiny hands.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now, I want you to take your sisters, go to your room and lock the door behind you. And don't come out until I tell you to,” she commanded while she ripped open the bag and took out bandages. She waited before they were out of the room before she gave her full attention to the task before her. Although she was helping Simon, her first priority were her kids. No way she would endanger them any further.

Simon was barely able to follow the events. And, frankly, he didn't care. He wanted to get out of here. He wanted to go home, to curl up under the blankets of his bed. He wanted the pain to stop!

“Nate, he needs to go to the hospital!” Jessie said while she secured the bandages around Simon's leg. Bricks didn't hear her. He was slumped on the sofa and muttered over and over again: “Didn' want to shoot him. Was an accident. Didn't mean to.”

“Nate!” Jessie yelled. “He needs a doctor! Now!”

Simon wanted to say something, wanted to tell Bricks that he wouldn't tell anyone that it was him who shot him if he just called an ambulance. But he couldn't. He was so tired. It was getting harder and harder to stay awake, to stay focused.

Bricks stared wide-eyed at his ex-wife. It was clear he was unable to do anything. Apparently, Jessie came to the same conclusion. She got up and went into the hallway. The phone was already in her hands when someone knocked on the door.

“Ms Baker? Police! Would you please open the door?”

Instantly, Bricks was on his feet.

“No! No way I'm goin' back to prison!” he shouted. “I didn' do nothin'.”

Panic rose inside Simon. Just when he thought that maybe he could get out of this alive. He tried to get up, tried to get away from Bricks and his gun which was suddenly back in his hand. But it was futile. All he could manage was to get into a sitting position before his leg forced him to stop.

“Send 'em away, Jessie! Or I swear, I will kill him!”

Bricks was towering over him, the gun raised in a shaking hand.

Jessie looked between Bricks and Simon, unsure what to do. The gun clicked.

 

 

When they drove up in front of the building Jake immediately spotted Simon's car. He didn't even wait for Ryan to fully stop before he opened his door. If he hadn't known it before, he knew it now: Simon was in trouble. There was no other explanation. Why else would he be here? In no imaginable world would he come to this part of the town willingly. Even if he had a client who lived here, he would meet with them in his office.

Jake was half way to the door when Ryan caught up with him

“Damn it, Jake! Don't run ahead like that,” Ryan grumbled. Having recognised Simon's black cabriolet, too, he added: “There are a hundred reasons why he would be here.”

“No, there are not,” Jake hissed. Why did everyone assume they knew Simon and what he was doing when they clearly didn't? Hell, they didn't even like him!

Frustrated with the whole situation and angry at himself Jake groaned in annoyance when he saw the state of the doorbell panel. He really didn't want to waste any more time.

Ryan just shot him a look, eyebrows raised, then pressed his flat hand on the panel. Numerous voices came through the intercom:

“Who is it?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want?”

“Is that you, darlin'?”

“Listen, you little shit heads, you ring this bell one more time…”

Luckily, there were people who didn't waste their time with asking questions and just buzzed them in.

“Keep your head, Jake,” Ryan said while they climbed up the stairs, Jake four steps ahead of him. “You are not helping anyone when you panic.”

Jake shot him a look, considered to say something, but decided against it and just nodded.

They reached Jessie Baker's door on the fourth floor. The bell didn't seem to work, so Jake knocked on the white painted door.

Nothing.

They exchanged a look, then Ryan knocked again and said loudly: “Ms Baker? Police! Would you please open the door?”

That got a reaction. Jake could hear moving and loud voices. After a few more seconds the door opened just a fraction, revealing part of the face of a blond woman.

“Yes?”

“Ms Baker?” Ryan asked.

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“Can we come in for a minute?

She glanced over her shoulder, a nervous look in her eyes.

“It's … it's not a good time. Can you come back later?”

“Ms Baker, this is really important,” Jake pleaded. He didn't know how much longer he could stay calm. Every minute that ticked by the bad feeling inside his stomach got worse.

“I …” Jessie Baker was clearly scared.

“This won't take long,” promised Ryan with his most reassuring smile. “Can we come in, please?”

There was a loud roar and the door was ripped open. Jessie Baker fell backwards on the floor.

“Are you fuckin' stupid? She doesn' want you to come in. Now fuck off!” yelled a man, who Jake immediately recognised as the bulky guy – Nate Bricks, he now knew – Simon had been with.

Ryan took a step back, dragging Jake with him.

“Sir, put the gun down, Now!” Ryan said in a calm, but commanding voice.

Up until now Jake hadn't noticed the gun in Bricks' hand. The second thing he hadn't noticed before was that Jessie Baker was covered in blood. A lot of blood. But apparently not her own.

He didn't waste any more time. While Ryan was talking to a raging Bricks, Jake took a couple more steps back.

“Control, this is Kilo-Two-Two-Zero. Requesting immediate back up at Bedford Street Number Six. Armed suspect, possible hostage situation,” Jake spoke into his radio.

“Sir, put the gun down and step back! Now!” Ryan demanded, when Jake had finished.

“Like hell I will! I ain't goin' back to prison!” Bricks yelled and backed away into the flat with a raised gun. Jessie Baker had scrambled to her feet and was now rushing down the hallway. She vanished into a room with a door plastered with pictures. For a second Jake could see the face of a terrified little girl before the door closed with a bang.

Bricks, too, had vanished from their field of vision. Jake wanted to rush after him, but Ryan held him back.

“Let me go,” Jake hissed, trying to free himself from the grip on his arm.

But Ryan didn't let go. He wrenched Jake down one flight of stairs. “Wait for back up!”

 

 

It felt like ages when Jo finally came rushing up the stairs, followed by a handful of heavily armed police officers.

“Status report?” she asked.

“Armed male. Possibly two other persons in the flat and one hurt,” Ryan informed her.

“And kids,” Jake added. “Don't know how many.”

Jo nodded.

“Good, we take it from here,” she said, already on her way up to the flat.

“No!” Jake protested. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Jake…,” Ryan began, but Jake didn't let him finish.

“No! I'm staying.”

Jo shot him a look, then conceded: “Fine.”

She took the last steps and crouched beside the door.

“Mr Bricks? My name is DS Jo Moffat,” she called out.

“Go away. I didn' do nothin',” shouted Bricks.

“I'm sure you didn't. Why don't you put your gun away and come out? I just want to talk to you, ” Jo went on.

There was silence for a few seconds. Jake held his breath. Maybe Bricks would give up.

“Fuck you! You're gonna arrest me! I know how you work. You lying bastards!” There was panic and rage in Bricks' voice. Not a good combination. He was clearly unstable.

“Mr Bricks…”

“Shut the fuck up and go away! Or I 'ill kill him!”

“Kill whom?” Jo wanted to know.

But Jake didn't need to hear the answer, he already knew.

“That fuckin' lawyer. 'S all his fault!”

And just like that Jake's heart was in his throat, his blood rushing in his ears.

No, no, no, no! Please, no!

If Ryan hadn't grabbed his arm, he would have run up the stairs and into the flat without a second thought. He needed to see Simon! He needed to know that he was fine! That everything was all right! Now!

“Mr Bricks, please calm down! I promise I just want to talk to you,” yelled Jo, her voice was calm and nothing but professional. Jake wanted to throttle her. How much time did she want to waste with talking? Why didn't they just storm in there?

But Jo just kept going, trying to talk Bricks down.

Just when Jake couldn't take it anymore, a voice sounded through Jo's radio.

“We have a clear shot.”

Jo brought the radio close to her mouth and responded: “Good. Stand by and wait for my orders.”

“Mr Bricks, think about your children and end this now!” Jo shouted.

There was rumbling and then Bricks' roared again: “Shut up and leave me alone! I'm getting' out of here!”

They all shared a confused look. What was that supposed to mean?

A few seconds later their question was answered when Bricks appeared in the doorway. And he was not alone.

Jake's heart skipped a few beats when he saw Bricks with a beaten and bloodied Simon.

He had one arm wrapped around Simon's neck while the other was pressing a gun against his head.

Immediately, Jo raised her gun, as did all the other police officers who were scattered around the stairwell.

“Mr Bricks, don't do anything stupid!”

“Back off an' let me go. Or he dies.” To underline his words he unlocked the gun with a click.

Simon whimpered.

“Oh God, please! Just let him go,” he begged, sobbing. “Please! I don't want to die!”

Jake's heart broke as he saw Simon crying and begging for his life. There was nothing left of the confident lawyer who was sure of himself and knew what he was doing. He was replaced by a scared and terrified man who had been through hell. Not to mention the pain from the gun shot wound on his leg. The bandages who someone (probably Jessie Baker) had tied around it were already soaked through with blood. It was clear that Simon couldn't stand on his own and if Bricks hadn't had such a tight grip on him, he would have dropped to the floor.

“Mr Bricks,” Jo tried again, “how do you think this is going to turn out? You think you can just walk out of here after you have taken hostages and shot one of them? Even if you can get away now, we will catch you eventually. It's only a matter of time. End this now! Or you will only make it worse.” A few seconds ticked by in which Bricks contemplated her words. It was clear that he didn't know what to do.

“Think about your kids,” Jo said. “You want them to grow up, knowing that their father killed an innocent man?”

Jake immediately knew that her last words had been a mistake. Up until now Bricks seemed to see reason and had slowly begun to lower his gun. But all of a sudden the rage was back.

“He's not innocent! It's all his fault! He said, I woul' get out on probation!”

“Mr Bricks …”

“He has to pay for that!” Bricks pushed Simon away who stumbled forwards, unable to keep his balance. With one fluid motion Bricks raised his gun and shot Simon in the back before he pointed the gun at his own head and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

“NO!” Jake screamed when Simon hit the floor and ran up the stairs.

“No, please, no!” He pressed his hand on the wound and turned Simon around. Sobbing, he cradled his ex-lover into his arms.

“Jake...” Simon whispered. Jake barely heard him over the noise of the other police officers rushing around.

“Hang in there! It's gonna be all right, okay? You're going to be fine!” Jake rambled, trying to keep Simon awake who was fighting to keep his eyes open. He could feel the blood on his hand as it flowed out of Simon's body, bringing him closer to death every second that ticked by.

“Jake … I'm …”

“Shhh, don't talk!”

But Simon was determined to say what he had to say.

“I'm … sorry … so sorry … I hurt you … I didn't … mean to.”

Jake tried very hard not to break down as he heard that. “It's okay,” he said through his tears and kissed Simon's forehead. “It's okay, I forgive you.”

“No … no … it's not,” Simon insisted. “You … didn't … deserve … that. … I'm … sorry … so … sorry.” And with that Simon closed his eyes. Holding the stilled form of the beautiful man he had fallen in love with the second he had seen him, Jake cried, mumbling nonsense and refusing to let go. When finally the paramedics arrived, he crawled out of the way, unable to get up. Crying and sobbing he watched as they did everything they could.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :)  
> I promise there will be a sequel, I just don't know when. Might take a few weeks/months.


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